Ghosts
by Super Vanilla Bear
Summary: Sometimes, Andy visits him while he's sleeping. Casey tries to deal with the death of his best friend.


**Author's Note: **I do not own the television show _Chicago Fire_ or any of its characters.

I have pretty much fallen in love with this fantastic show over the past few weeks. The story line between Casey and Voight is one of the best things I've seen on television in a while, and it reminds me the confrontations between House and Tritter. I, possibly like many of you guys, come from the _House_ fandom, and _Chicago Fire _reminds me a lot of it in different ways. Obviously, the most similar instance is whenever I watch either show and see Jesse Spencer, who no one can deny is an extremely attractive man. _House _was always filled with mysteries, both in and out of medical cases, but _Chicago Fire_ seems to accent more on the relationship between the characters, rather than the fires they face themselves.

For any of you that come from _House_ land, do you find it odd to watch Jesse Spencer in a new show with a new role? Every time I see him, my mind automatically shifts to Chase, and I know that I should probably get out of the habit of that. It's just that he was Chase for eight years. But, I do love him as Casey. He is honestly one of the most convincing actors on the show, and he brings a lot of power behind Casey's character. I also do love the fact that Jesse has a main role in the show, versus being in the background like Chase was a lot of the time.

I have written three stories from _House _on here, all Chase centric if you want to check them out. They are called _Falling Apart_, _The Hero Game_, and _Taking Care of You_. Chase is my second favorite character on the show, obviously in second to House, and he's tied with Wilson. I miss that show so much that it sometimes hurts (yeah, I know I'm a dork), but I'm hoping this show can help fill that gap in my heart, and it's doing a great job so far.

Anyway, I bet you all are tired of my ranting. I hope you enjoy the story!

* * *

_Ghosts_

* * *

Sometimes, Andy visits him while he's sleeping.

"How's it goin', Matty?"

Casey shudders at the use of the nickname he hasn't heard in weeks; an alias that disappeared after the death of his best friend. He wraps his comforter around his shoulders tighter, wincing as the cold night air hits his bare back, wishing that Hallie were here to make him feel better. But she's not. And neither is Darden. Darden's dead. He's been dead for over four weeks. Part of Casey wonders why it's so hard for him to sleep. Although, perhaps it's because of these visits that he's having such a crazy time in his own mind.

"You okay, buddy?"

He's sure he's going nuts when he feels Darden take a seat on the edge of his bed, placing a warm hand on his shoulder. Darden knows exactly how Casey acts and reacts; after all, they've known each other since elementary school. He shivers, burrowing his face farther into his pillow, whispering silent prayers to himself, hoping that he will go away. He waits there for a long time, but, every time he cracks open his eyes, the baby face of Andy Darden is still there, just as if it were really there. Tears swell in his blue eyes as he starts to speak.

"What're you doing here?" Casey inquires. He can feel his insides quivering, his bottom lip trembling, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. This isn't real. This isn't real. Andy isn't here. He knows this isn't normal. He knows he's going insane. Finally, he is tired of hiding it all, and he lets a few tears, just a few, stream down his flushed face, too exhausted from a hectic shift to wipe them away. Darden starts to rub his shoulder, letting him know that he's there. But he's not there. He's not there. Why can't he just go away?

Andy smiles slightly. "What? Can't a guy come see his best pal?"

"You're dead."

"What a wonderful observation, Matt."

Casey shakes his head out of instinct. "Why're you here?"

Andy Darden looks at him with a goofy, lopsided grin. Typical Andy. Nothing is ever serious to him, not even walking into a burning building and dying. If it were Casey that had died, he probably still would have cracked jokes, made people feel better before himself, told everyone ridiculous stories about their childhood and friendship. That's just who Andy Darden is. Or was. Casey himself isn't even sure what to classify him as anymore.

"To save you."

* * *

Sometimes, Casey wishes he could disappear.

"What the hell happened in here?" Severide questions, appalled by the horrific, crime scene-esque picture of the kitchen. Blood is smeared everywhere; all over the food, all over the counter, all over the blond man himself. He makes his over way to Casey, who immediately flinches away from him, taking a few steps in the opposite direction, neglecting looking up at Severide himself. He swears he hears the younger fireman sniffle a few times, but he ignores it, knowing Casey isn't in the mood for any of this right now.

Casey quickly turns on the sink, washes the blood away, and watches as crimson pours out of his hand, his eyes glassy with tears. Severide forcefully pulls his hand out from under the water, grabbing it with enough intensity to cause the burning sensation to turn into pure hell underneath his broken skin. He hisses through the pain and still avoids eye contact at the same time until he feels Severide's fingers push his chin up, making Casey look at him. He wants to turn his head. He wants to tell Severide to go away. But, he can't. He's frozen.

"What's going on?" Severide asks. He's never seen Casey like this, and that's saying a lot since they've known each other since middle school. Ever since Darden's death, Kelly Severide has been watching Matt Casey press the self destruct button over and over again. "You gonna answer me, Casey?" Normally, that would have been enough for the younger man's temper to flare and for the two of them to get into an extremely heated argument, but he just stands there, looking as if he's going to break down at any given second.

Severide inspects Casey's hand, wincing himself at how uncomfortable that has to be. There's at least a two inch gash spreading across the horizontal length of his palm, blood dripping out of. There's no doubt that it's very deep, deep enough for him to need stitches hands-down. He assumes the injury is from slicing open tomatoes for dinner since the food has been contaminated with blood. This whole situation is odd to Severide. Silence has never been a strong characteristic of Casey's. The kid's practically programmed to talk and lecture, but the quiet is starting to creep Severide out. He wants to snap the kid the hell out of it, but he's so vulnerable right now that he's afraid Casey will break all together.

"Matt, we need to get you to the hospital."

Casey shakes his head. "N-No, it's... it's fine."

"_This_," Severide motions to his cut open hand, "is _not _fine. You'll need at least twenty stitches."

"It'll be fine."

Severide snarls, the brown in his eyes filling with rage. "You know what, Casey? Stop trying to play hero. Your hand isn't okay. You're not even okay! Everyone is messed up after Darden's death, but at least we talk about it. At least we acknowledge that it happened. You just sit there and play pretend, thinking that he'll come back. He's not coming back, Matt. There's no amount of praying that your church boy ass could do to make him come back. Stop acting like such a damn idiot and fix the problem because I'm getting sick and tired of your bullshit."

* * *

Sometimes, Darden sneaks up on him while he's doing paperwork in his quarters.

"How's your hand?"

The too familiar voice shakes him out of his writing trance, making him jump up in fright. His heart pounds too rapidly in his chest as he turns around in his swiveling chair, gulping. Darden is sitting on the sofa, his feet placed on his coffee table, hands behind his head, looking more alive and comfortable than ever. If Casey weren't so scared right now, he'd laugh at his apparent laziness, a trait that Darden has been prone to for so long.

"Y'know, this would go a lot smoother if you talked to me."

"You're dead."

"We've been through that already."

Knowing he's not going to get anywhere with trivial pursuit, Casey shrugs. "It's fine. Barely even notice it anymore." It's only been a week since he cut the crap out of his left hand with a knife preparing dinner, but it still stings. The lack of binding between his skin is irritating and all, but he hasn't seen Hallie during this time period, so it's useless to get stitches, even though he knows he needs them. He misses Hallie so much that it's killing him, just like the lack of his best friend in his physical life, but he can't do anything about it.

"Because that's why you've been holding it in pain every time someone leaves."

Casey rolls his eyes and chuckles slightly. Darden smiles back, but it's not his usual smile. He looks worried, and Casey can tell that by the way his green eyes changed with anticipation. The dead man twiddles his thumbs, sighing heavily as he leans back further into the leather couch. "What?" Casey inquires, finally starting to lighten up around the new found Darden that seems to follow him around everywhere. After all, he still is his best friend.

"I'm worried about you, Matt."

He's been getting that a lot lately.

* * *

Sometimes, Hallie finds herself wandering over to Matt's apartment.

She doesn't even bother to knock; she knows exactly where his spare key is. It's only eight in the evening, so she doesn't come in quietly, knowing that his Thursday shift ended about an hour and a half ago. However, she is surprised when she steps inside and doesn't find him on his couch, curled in a ball like he normally does when he's exhausted after a forty-eight hour shift. Knowing Matt, he probably did more than that. "Matt?" she calls, hoping to hear some form of life taking place, but the silence is far too unwelcoming for her.

Hallie spots Matt's tennis shoes in the middle of his hallway, which is so unlike him that it's sickening. He's such an organized, everything goes in its place type of guy, and that's even unlike her. He's always been incredibly specific about where things go, and her heart drops as she takes steps closer to his bedroom, worry coursing through her veins. She makes her way into his room, shocked to see him sprawled out on his stomach on top of his comforter, snoring lightly, still wearing his work clothes. Matt is normally a night owl and can stay awake for hours on end, and it's so odd for her to be convinced otherwise by his abnormal acts.

She, as carefully as possible, sits on the edge of his bed, automatically lifting up his long sleeved shirt, rubbing his back. His skin is way too warm for her liking, and she runs her hand up farther, feeling each one of his ribs sticking out far more than any time she's ever felt him before. Hallie mentally kicks herself for leaving him on his own in the wake of his best friend's death. Just because they're not together right now doesn't mean Matt deserves to be alone. No one deserves that. Now, he's exhausted, sick, and possibly malnourished.

"Matt," she coaxes, shaking his shoulder lightly.

Surprisingly, he stirs immediately, stretching out like a cat, a suppressed whine let out in the process. He runs a trembling hand through his short hair, the other being placed firmly on his stomach for comfort. "What d'ya want now, Andy?" he mumbles, his words slurring together due to his grogginess. He feels like he's been hit by a bus and tries to cover himself up to stop his chills, but then realizes he fell asleep without any blankets, which is strange for him. He always sleeps with a blanket, even when it's one hundred degrees outside.

Hallie's heart drops into the pit of her stomach, and she gulps as she rubs Matt's shoulder. "Matt, Andy's not here," she tells him, worried just from his delirium. He must be sicker than she thought. She's seen people hallucinate numerous times at the hospitals from illness alone. It doesn't even surprise her that Andy is the person he's seeing right now. She knows how badly he must miss him. She can't imagine being the last person to ever talk to her best friend, even though her best friend honestly is Matt himself.

Matt sits up, rubbing his eyes with his hands. "What d'ya mean? He's right-" He looks around aimlessly for any sign of his tall, baby faced friend, but he sees nothing on this freezing, late October night. "Hallie?" he questions, noticing her giving him her signature "I'm scared out of my mind" glance. "What's wrong? Everything okay at the hospital?"

_Typical Matt,_ she thinks._ Always caring about others before himself._

She nods. "Yeah, sweetie. I'm fine."

He looks baffled. "Why're you here then?" He sees the automatic expression of shock written all over her face. "No! N-No, that's... I-I didn't mean it that way..." his voice trails off. Hallie doesn't respond, she just wraps her arms around his shoulders, feeling the shear warmth of his body roll off in waves as she holds him. She feels awful for leaving him along like this. She's an ass. She knows it. She just wants things to go back to the way they were before. Before Andy died. Before her career became even more demanding.

"What's wrong, Matt?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

* * *

Sometimes, Andy shows up when Casey needs someone the most.

The blond groggily rolls over on to his side, a tuft of hair that isn't his own being forced up his nose. He groans, but immediately recognizes who it is. Hallie is facing him, her light features brightening up his dark bedroom, forcing him to smile through his discomfort. Nausea rumbles through his abdomen, causing him to sit up and sprint to the bathroom. He kneels before the throne, his knuckles turning ghost white as he grips the sides of the toilet. Tears escape and roll down his cheeks as he heaves and hurls, trembling as he tries to regain his composure. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels someone rubbing his back, stopping himself from throwing up when he turns around to see Andy there, smiling.

"Feel any better?"

Casey skitishly jerks away, curling in on himself. He pulls his legs to his chest, wraps his arms around them, and places his head in the middle, slightly rocking himself. "P-Please go away," he pleads, praying for Darden to just leave him alone. He can't take this anymore. He can't do it. It's bad enough that he killed his best friend as it is. It's bad enough that he has to live with the guilt of knowing that he caused the accident. As if none of that was bad enough, now Darden's freaking ghost won't even leave him alone. He must be a horrible person.

"Why do you want me to go?"

Casey shakes his head. "I-I... I ca-can't do it anymore, A-Andy."

"What do you mean?"

"Y-Y-You're de-dead. Why are you s-still here?"

"I already answered that question."

"I don't need t-to be s-saved."

Darden doesn't smile this time. "That's the biggest lie I've ever heard."

* * *

Sometimes, Casey feels like he's truly useful to his make-shift family.

"Hey, Casey!" A round of claps and some whistling, most likely from Hermann, fill his hearing. He grins, making his way further inside the fire house. Chief Boden lightly pats his back, Otis nearly runs over to hug him, Hermann smiles; it feels good to actually be back, even if he's only been gone for two days. These guys are his family, whether he wants to admit it to them or not. He places his bag on the ground in order to shake some hands, since that's what it seems like people really want from him right now.

"Glad you're back," Dawson says. "It was weird not having you here. You've never missed a day of work in your life."

He knows that's true, but he doesn't understand why they are so happy to see him. He's not used to this. His parents never missed him, his siblings never missed him, he was even starting to wonder if Hallie ever missed him. Her taking care of him for forty-eight straight hours restores his faith in that though. "I missed you guys," he tells them all. It doesn't take more than him being there for three minutes than for a drill to be called, the alarms going off like crazy as they all try to get their gear on.

Chief Boden taps Casey on the shoulder as he's in the middle of putting everything on. "You're sitting out on this one, Casey."

* * *

Sometimes, Casey wishes he had all the answers.

A picture. A single picture is all they have left to remember Andy by. It's next to all of the other firefighters they've lost over the years, some of which Casey himself never really talked to. Andy's is right in the middle, making it impossible for people to miss. Tears swell up in his eyes as he looks at the background of the picture. He can see himself and Severide both making stupid faces as Andy's is completely straight forward, just a simple smile. They all knew these pictures were in case of something happening, whether it be a good or bad event. Casey just never knew he'd see this up here for these reasons.

_Andrew James Darden_

_January 11, 1979 - October 10, 2012_

_You will forever be missed._

He feels a hand on his shoulder, and he turns around, anticipating to see Darden standing there. But, it's not Darden this time. It's Severide. "What're you up to?" he questions, noticing the tears in Casey's eyes. For a split second, he drops the "rivalry" between them. Even if he doesn't want to admit it ninety-nine percent of the time, he knows Darden's death wasn't Casey's fault. It was nobody's fault. Good things happen, but sometimes bad things happen too. "Casey," he coaxes. "It wasn't your fault."

Casey huffs. "Right. `Cause that's why you always remind me that it is."

"I'm an ass."

"You got that right."

Severide rolls his eyes. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I-I... I miss him too. There's not a day that goes by that I don't miss him. And there's not a day that goes by that I don't worry about what's going on in that head of yours." Casey gives him the most weirded out look on his face that Severide's ever seen, but he continues anyway. "You've became so distant since Andy's death, Matt. None of us ever have any idea what you're thinking. I know Dawson and Shay miss talking to you about the dirt that goes on here, and Hermann misses his 'back-up' buddy,' whatever the hell that means. And you know what? I miss you too, Matt."

Sometimes, Casey wonders why Darden's ghost follows him around.

But, he guesses these, his friends and family, are the reasons why.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I really do think that the writers should show more of the sorrow and internal aspects of both Severide and Casey losing their best friend. I think the friction, tension, and rival between Casey and Severide is genius because of the fault lines, but I don't think they've pushed Darden's story line to its full potential. I'm definitely looking forward to maybe having a confrontation between these two guys on the show.

Anyway, what did everyone think of this? I had a blast writing it. I'm thinking about writing another one-shot or possible a multiple chapter story for this, but I'm not sure yet. Do you all want me to write something else? I'm open to requests and suggestions too, so don't be shy about those. If there's anything specific you want me to write about, feel free to leave a review or private message me with your request. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you guys honestly enjoyed this, and please remember to leave a review! =)


End file.
